


we never think about (you and me)

by venomondenim



Series: venom's parkner cinematic universe [12]
Category: Iron Man (2013), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Harley Keener, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Bisexual Peter Parker, Blowjobs, Brother/Brother, Brother/Brother Incest, Coming Untouched, Consensual Sex with Minor, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Grinding, Guilt, Incest, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minor Harry Osborn/Peter Parker, Name-Calling, Phone Sex, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:33:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomondenim/pseuds/venomondenim
Summary: Peter leaned down, and kissed him. When they broke for air, Harley whispered, “We can’t.”He whispered the words “We can’t,” over, and over again as Peter kissed him. The words tumbled out whenever his mouth was free, and wasn’t occupied by Peter’s tongue. The words came out in harsh moans, even when he was wrapping his hand around Peter’s cock, who was writhing and thrashing in his lap, spilling out his name like a curse every few seconds.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Series: venom's parkner cinematic universe [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053995
Comments: 6
Kudos: 74





	we never think about (you and me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkner_keenker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkner_keenker/gifts).



> _oh my god, she's back again_
> 
> anyways, here's another angsty incest fic. 
> 
> this is a completed one shot. this is it baby, and there will be no sequel. it was just living rent free in my brain. sage came through with another glass animals lyric title because that's my brand now.
> 
> also maia deserves it because I'm trash and can't finish chapters to save my life. hope you like it bb. hope you will accept this as a Christmas gift. <3
> 
> \- venom

Peter's voice was shaky, and the only thing Harley could hear for a few minutes over the line was the sound of him breathing. Then finally, he heard Peter's voice filter in through the shitty receiver. "I think I'm maybe bi, or something,” He said, his voice nearly wrecked at the admission.

Harley sucked in a breath, and all of his brotherly instincts reared into overdrive, like he had just been shoved into second gear. He slid down the wall of his dorm room, suddenly very glad that his roommate seemed more keen on fucking his girlfriend than ever sleeping in their room. He closed his eyes. "Okay. It's okay to be, you know-" he said awkwardly. He was faltering, and he hated doing it around Peter.

There was a moment of silence, to which Harley counted Peter's breaths on the other end of the line. He opened his mouth to ask, how this revelation came about, did something happen or-

His brain fizzled to a halt by the sound of Peter swallowing audibly. "I blew Harry at a party tonight,” came his voice eventually, barely above a whisper.

Harley squeezed his eyes tighter, and hated how the thought of his brother going down on someone else, _forfeiting his mouth for someone else_ , made his stomach roll. It made him want to grab him up by the hair, and suck deep purple - almost black - marks into his neck to show everyone who he really belonged to...

He had to stop that train of thought.

It was wrong, and _fucked up_ on so many levels. God, Peter was his _brother_ , not someone he could think about like that. He shouldn't find the freckles on his shoulders an invitation for his tongue. He shouldn't find the whimperings he made whenever he stubbed his toe hot enough to need to rub one out in the bathroom - then not be able to look in his eyes the rest of the night. And he _most definitely_ , shouldn't find the thought of his brother sucking another guy's cock down his throat, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, and mouth shiny and stretched, hot enough to get hard instantly. 

"But you know the part that's so funny?" Peter continued, clearly not aware of Harley's moral and sexual crisis. His voice got lower. "The whole time I was doing it. The entire time his cock was in my mouth, and his fingers pulled at my hair, and he kept moaning about how good it was and how I was born to suck cock..." He trailed off, "all I could think about was _you_."

“Peter,” Harley rasped, then banged his head back against the door. “We can’t.” Harley’s dick was painfully hard in his jeans, but it wasn’t right. They shouldn’t-

Peter though, didn't take that as a sign to stop, if anything, it only fueled his fire. "But I knew Harry wasn't you," he drew the words out, like he was exploring them with his tongue. "He was so gentle, and was constantly rubbing his hands all over my face." Peter paused then, and Harley held his breath, waiting for what he would say next. "You wouldn't." Peter said like it was a matter of certainty. 

"No. You would grab me, and shove me down onto your cock. You would take me, and use me. You would fuck my mouth until I couldn't breathe, until that's the only thing I could remember how to do. You wouldn't care if I came or not, because I'm your little brother and I'm just here to please you." 

After that no words were spoken for a few short seconds, before Harley's voice roughly broke the silence. "Get on your bed, lie on your back, and spread your legs," He growled. 

Harley’s heart was thudding in his chest. When he heard Peter rustling on the other line, he practically dove into his own bed, kicking off his jeans. They felt scratchy and too hot against his burning skin. He pressed the heel of his hand against his dick, and tried to suppress it to get himself under control. This wasn't about him, this was about Peter. 

When the rustling stopped, he tucked the phone into his shoulder. "Are you proud of yourself?" He asked, slipping into his role. "I bet you're proud of blowing Harry in some dark corner of a party, where everyone could see you. Where everyone could see what an easy whore you are." 

Peter whined, and Harley smirked. "Don't you dare think of touching yourself. Not until I say so." 

He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands. The pain made him able to focus, and cleared some of the lust-fog from his mind, so he was able to get his thoughts in order. Although, he refused to think too hard about what they were doing, because if he did, he knew the guilt would pull him under. 

"When I come back to visit," he continued, "I'm gonna hear all about how my brother became a slut while I was away. How he's bending over for everyone. But no matter who fucks you, it isn't quite good enough, right?"

Peter whimpered, "Harls, please. I always imagine it's you, fucking me, and shoving your fingers in my mouth because we have to be quiet. But it's so good - you're so good that I can't help the noises."

Harley chuckled, "Listen to you," he said, practically in awe, "We've barely started and you're already fucking wrecked. Why are you saying please? What do you want? You think you deserve anything from me now that I know you've been fucking the whole city?"

"I haven't-" Peter protested. But Harley cut him off, his words sharp.

"Don't lie. Maybe I'll have to punish you the next time I'm home." Peter let out more delicious whines and whimpers on the other end at that. Harley wished more than anything he could see him. He probably looked like some porn centerfold, all spread out, sweat trickling along his brow and chest, hips circling the air desperately, trying to get friction that wasn’t there. 

"I bet," Harley drawled, palming at his own hard dick, forgotten about until now. "I could make you cum with just my words." 

"Fuck. Harls, please," Peter's voice cracked, and _fuck_ Harley thought, this was going to be almost too easy. He wanted to be there. He wanted to see Peter fall apart. He wanted to sink his teeth into Peter’s neck until he was writhing from it. 

"Hmm, or maybe it should be saved for another time. When I can lie next to you, and whisper every word into your ear. Of all the things I would do to you, but won't. I'll bite on your ear, and you'll feel my breath on your neck, and all you'll be able to do is whine and squirm. The only thing bringing you off is your dick rubbing against your boxers. I’ll stick my fingers in your mouth, shoving them deep enough that you gag and choke, because you fucking love it. You’ll suck on them, and I know you. You’ll be so good for me, baby, but I won’t put them inside of you. You haven’t earned it. 

Peter moaned loud, long, and drawn out, until it petered off, raising in pitch. "Can I cum Harls?" His voice was already hoarse and whiny, like he had been sucking Harley's cock for hours, and not just squirming in bed, getting off on his brother's fucked up fantasies. "Please I gotta cum, let me cum, I'll do anything please-"

"If you wanna cum so bad," Harley said, almost sounding bored. "Then cum." 

Almost immediately Peter groaned, and then keened, gasping for air over the line. Harley's blood rushed in his ears. His brother had gotten off just from the sound of his voice. Just because of his words. Harley nearly tore his dick off as he shoved his hand down his boxers. He wrapped a hand around his length and started pumping. It was so good, and he was so close-

It only took a few tight strokes before he was coming so hard his vision bled white around the edges, and he needed several minutes to catch his breath. What eventually brought him back was the familiar noise of Peter's breaths, still on the phone. 

"Harls?" Peter inquired hesitantly, to which Harley didn’t reply. His own voice caught in his throat. "I love you," Peter whispered, like it was a secret. They were brothers, they said they love each other all the time, but. This time it was _different_. This time there was a magnitude to the word. Before he even made the conscious decision, he was hanging up the phone, and tossed it onto the other side of the bed, like the warm metal had burned him. He watched it slide off the edge of the bed, and clatter onto the hardwood floor. 

X X X

Afterwards, Harley threw himself into his schoolwork. He practically locked himself in the lab set-up for Freshmen, only submerging to eat (sometimes), get coffee, or get wasted (all the time). Almost every bot he came out with either was too aggressive, or blew up before it could complete a task. Harley didn’t know if it was because the world hated him, or if he was losing his shit. (In all honesty, it was probably the latter.)

Peter called him everyday. Harley would watch his phone ring, normally from the other side of the room, in a trance. He never would realize he was holding his breath, until the ringing stopped. 

He quit talking to a lot of the friends that he had made in the beginning of the semester. Most of them don't think anything of it. He had become the brooding guy that never left the lab, who "thought he was better than everyone suddenly." It stung, but it didn’t matter. Harley fucking hated Boston, and he hated MIT. 

The only person though, who didn’t put up with his shit, or wallowing, was Gwen. She nearly took down his door one afternoon, when he was surprisingly in his dorm and not in the lab. He had been staring at his wall, wondering if people could tell how much of a sadist he was just by looking at him, or if he was completely average, and that was the most frightening part. Like, the Christian Bale effect in _American Psycho_. 

She came in, all fire and fury, and placed her hands on her waist. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, held back by a headband, and she had chosen a bright colored lipstick that day. She was wearing a short jean skirt, paired with a shirt that had a logo of a band that Harley had never heard of. The bottom hem was messy and stringy, and cropped short, like she had gotten bored one day and hacked at it with scissors. Which, knowing Gwen, probably wasn’t too far off. 

She stared Harley down, whose eyes were wide, caught off guard. She pointed her finger and announced, " _You_ , are getting off your sorry ass. You're going to shave, get dressed, and then we're going out. You are going to tell me what crawled up your ass or so help me I will hack into and change your school email password every day.”

Harley gaped. His mouth opened and then closed repeatedly like a fish before he reluctantly got up. Gwen wouldn’t let him out of her sight as he shaved, and got dressed. When he was finally deemed presentable to the general public, Gwen pulled out a bottle of bright pink perfume from her purse and sprayed Harley down with it. He coughed and wheezed, flailing his hands around like he was dying. 

"What the fuck!" He crowed, spitting at the taste of perfume in his mouth. 

Gwen put the bottle back, and arched her brow, like she was daring Harley to say something else. She rolled her eyes dramatically at him and then led him out of the dorms. They walked in a companionable silence along the cobbled pathways of the college campus. Harley shoved his hands into his pockets, not wanting to start the conversation, or make eye contact. 

Eventually, they stopped at one of the small café's that the campus was littered with, although this one was Harley's particular favorite. They had the best coffee, and nobody who worked there ever batted an eye at Harley lathering his blueberry muffins with three different kinds of jelly.

When they both ordered, and settled into one of the cozy booths in the back of the café, Gwen took a sip of her coffee, leaving a bright red stain from her lips on the edge. She rested her chin against her hand. "So what happened?" Her tone was a lot softer than the commanding one she had had back at the dorms. 

Harley sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. "Have you ever," he started, heart thudding, thinking about the best way to put it, without giving away what a monster he was. Getting off not only on someone who was underage, but on someone who was his fucking brother. "Have you ever liked someone...that it was wrong to?"

Gwen took a considerate drink of her coffee, before humming. "No, not necessarily. But how wrong are we talking?" She probed carefully, fanning her fingers out on the table. “Because there’s, ‘wow my TA is pretty hot and I wouldn’t mind blowing him’ wrong, and then there’s, ‘you’ve been married for fifteen years with three kids’, kind of wrong.” 

Harley clenched his jaw. “It’s not any of those, it’s - worse.” 

Gwen bit at a hangnail thoughtfully. “I really don’t know how it could be worse,” she admitted. “But this wasn’t about that. You don’t have to tell me anything. I just wanted to see you out and about. If you spend any more time in the lab I might start renting out your dorm room for extra cash.” 

Harley managed a weak smile at her joke. He jolted though, when he heard his phone ringing. The familiar croon of Bowie singing Heroes filtered into the air. Peter had demanded that be his ringtone, and all about threatened bodily harm until Harley had changed it. All after they had watched _Perks of Being A Wallflower_ one night. 

_Vodka was pumping through both of their veins as they snuggled up on the couch in their living room. They had gotten it from the back of the liquor cabinet and were pretty sure that their parents wouldn’t notice. Peter’s ice cold feet dug into his hip. Harley didn’t mind, though. He was glad he was there, when Peter had buried his face into his shoulder halfway through the movie._

_He had looked up at Harley towards the end, when Charlie was getting out of the hospital. His eyes had been puffy, and red. Harley’s chest clenched at the sight, even though he had sported some tears of his own during his first viewing of the movie. He had tightened his arm around Peter’s shoulder, pulling him closer, so that he was crushed against his side. The way Peter had looked at him, eyes shiny with complete adoration, had made his stomach jerk._

_He couldn’t help staring at Peter’s face, and eventually down, to his lips. They parted, slick, from all the times he had licked his lips. Without really meaning to, or even realizing, his thumb reached up, and rubbed over his lip, oh so gently. You could’ve heard a pin drop. The only sound in the room was coming from the movie on the screen, that they weren’t paying any attention to._

_Harley had about two seconds of his breath hitching before Peter surged forward. He all about threw himself into Harley’s lap, and crashed their mouths together. The noise he made was high and needy, as their mouths parted, then sloshed back together, wetly, over and over again. Harley felt like he was drowning. The only thing breaking through the white noise in his ears were the noises Peter kept making in the back of his throat. He was grabbing onto Harley’s t-shirt for dear life._

_When Harley finally got his sense together, he pulled back. His head rested against the couch, and his eyes were wide in terror. He couldn’t breathe. Every part of him was paralyzed. He was thrumming with need, and want. Peter looked back at him, his lips still as enticing, now covered in a mixture of Harley, and his’s spit. His own eyes were wide, and he looked just as terrified - but there was also hurt there too._

_“I-” Harley stuttered._

_He couldn’t continue with how vulnerable, and young Peter looked in that moment. Peter tried to kiss him again, but gave up, when Harley pulled away. He nuzzled his face into Harley’s neck instead. “Please-” he whimpered, grinding down onto Harley’s lap._

_Harley gasped, dick twitching without his consent. “Peter,” his voice was strained with pain. “We can’t.”_

_“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Peter replied, rushed, still holding onto him like he would disappear any second._

_Harley couldn’t help but let out a startled laugh, grabbing onto Peter’s hips, without even realizing he was doing it. Peter leaned down, and kissed him. When they broke for air, Harley whispered. “We can’t.”_

_He whispered the words “We can’t,” over, and over again as Peter kissed him. The words tumbled out whenever his mouth was free, and wasn’t occupied by Peter’s tongue. The words came out in harsh moans, even when he was wrapping his hand around Peter’s cock, who was writhing and thrashing in his lap, spilling out his name like a curse every few seconds._

_He whispered the words, especially when Peter came all over his hand, then clattered onto the floor. His knees hit it with a sharp bang. Harley hoped for a minute that it wasn’t hard enough to leave bruises, while another, sicker voice, in the back of his head, wanted nothing more than to see the bruises the next day. He had the desire to dig his fingers into them, hard enough to watch Peter gasp and squirm._

_Before he could continue that train of thought, his head jerked back sharply, hitting the back of the ancient couch. He didn’t even process the throb in his head, because Peter’s mouth was sliding down onto his cock, like it was nothing. “God Peter,” he couldn’t help but moan out, too far gone to deny himself of this: the warm wetness of Peter’s mouth. Or his wet, red lips, wrapped around his cock._

_When Harley carded his fingers into Peter’s hair, and tugged, Peter moaned, loud and drawn out, around his dick. It was sloppy, and quick, and he could barely make out Peter’s face in the dark. The only thing illuminating it was the light from the TV screen, playing the DVD menu repeatedly. Harley groaned, then tried to silence it by biting into his arm when he thought about their parents upstairs, having no idea what was going on just a floor below._

_All of that put together had Harley grabbing onto the couch cushion, and coming jerkily into Peter’s mouth without much warning. Peter had cum smeared around his chin when he sidled up, back onto Harley’s lap. The feeling of his legs wrapping around each side of Harley’s hips let everything sink in._

_Harley started, panic gripping his chest as it spread to the pit of his stomach. His hands were shaking and a trail of ‘_ we didn’t, oh god, I didn’t, we shouldn’t have, fuck _’ ran through his head. Peter was warm, relaxed, and pliant on top of him. Harley shoved him off, so that he landed on the other cushion of the couch. He made a startled noise, looking up at Harley, confused._

_“I have to-” Harley choked out, the voice in his head screaming incessantly. “I have to go.”_

_He barely got his spent dick shoved back into his pants, zipping it messily before he was stumbling down the hallway and up the stairs to his room, pointedly ignoring Peter’s shout of “Harls!” behind him._

His mind shut down the memory abruptly, as he hastily turned off his phone, so that the ringer cut off sharply. Gwen raised her eyebrow from across the table. “Who was that?” 

Harley sucked in a breath. “Just,” he cleared his throat, “it was just Peter.” 

Gwen’s eyebrows raised impossibly higher, if that was possible, so they nearly reached her hairline. “Since when do you ignore calls from Peter?” 

Harley opened his mouth, but couldn't find the words to reply. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twitter, tumblr, or discord @ "venomondenim"


End file.
